


I Can Take You Higher

by succubusybody



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Rey, Ben Solo is an asshole, Clothed Sex, Darkfic, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Heat, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medium Burn, Unsafe Sex, Workplace Sex, biker ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody
Summary: Rey tends bar in a tiny rundown little township. It’s a boring, steady job... until a motorcycle club rolls through with an alpha as president. If she can keep her designation as an omega under wraps until they leave, she’ll be fine.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 191
Kudos: 779





	1. Hey little girl, is your daddy home?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MalevolentReverie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fledgling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165741) by [MalevolentReverie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie). 



> Hellooooooo this one goes out to my wife because I couldn’t stop thinking about her biker Ben ABO. And all that leather. MmmMmmMmmMmm. I’m posting mobile so I apologize for any formatting errors.

She was just trying to go downstairs to get some Heinekens from the walk-in. She’d almost made it, too, after digging the box out from behind what had seemed like endless cases of Bud Lights. But instead of heading back upstairs to get Klaud his beer, she had been practically tackled by Rose as her coworker came flying down the stairs.

And now she’s backed against the wall, Rose’s fingers digging into her upper arms as she talks a mile a minute. 

“Rey! You’re not listening to me.” Rose shakes her by the arms, snapping her back to reality and out of her thoughts. She shakes her head like she’s shaking off sleep and focuses back on the woman in front of her. “I said _have you been taking your suppressants_?”

Her suppressants? “Yeah, of course. I always do.” The alternative is going through her heat alone every month. There’d been some hoops to jump through with the doctors and insurance, but once the script had been cleared she’d taken them religiously.

Rose nods, but Rey can see the wheels still turning, like the answer wasn’t satisfactory. And why the hell was she asking about suppressants? She doesn’t ask to make sure she’s been taking her birth control, does she? It seems weird, and too personal, even for friends. And the fact that she’s asking is making her nervous. “Why-”

“There’s an alpha here,” she blurts.

Oh.

“And he’s not on suppressants,” Rose continues. _Oh_. Jakku doesn’t have any alphas, and hasn’t for a while; they’re far enough off the highway that they don’t get many travelers, either. There’s no reason to stop in Jakku. It’s a tiny Arizona town with one bar, one church and a whole bunch of nothing.

But it’ll be fine, she tells herself. She’s been taking her pills. On time. She can handle this.

“Do you want me to tell Unkar you got sick and had to go home?” Rose releases the grip she’s had on Rey’s arms and steps back, looking earnest. It’s sweet. She’s really concerned, and maybe she’s right to be. But Rey shakes her head no, anyway. 

“I need the cash,” she explains. “But thanks. Let’s just get this over with.” Rose nods, but her smile must not be very convincing, because neither of them move. Rey rolls her eyes and gestures towards the stairs with the box of beers. Rose is in her way, and the sooner they can get this alpha a drink, the sooner they won’t have to worry about it. “Come on. If nobody’s on the bar, Unkar will flip. I’m right behind you.”

That seems to do the trick. She breathes a sigh of relief as her coworker turns to head back upstairs, then puts her game face on and follows suit.

But as they get closer to the top of the stairs, she realizes that Rose hadn’t told her everything. There’s not just an alpha here - there’s a shitload of people in the bar. Loud enough that she can hear them, even through the closed door. All men, all loud. _Great_.

A sea of leather and sunglasses greets her when they make it back onto the floor. She stops, frowning, still holding the case of Heinekens as she looks over them. “Motorcycle club,” Rose whispers as she walks behind her to grab some clean glasses from the dishwasher. “Good money. Unkar’s in hog heaven.” And sure enough, there’s their boss, sitting with three of them and laughing like he’s having the time of his life.

And maybe he is. The bar is never this lively; the busiest it gets is when there’s a race on. The crowd is usually much quieter, more farmers tans and baseball caps than denim and knuckle tattoos.

So long as they tip, she guesses it’s fine.

She’s just about to turn away when it hits her: something sweet and warm, like whiskey, floods the roof of her mouth. Her heart hammers in her chest as her eyes dart through the patrons, and then she finds him: dark hair, dark eyes, taller than the rest. Staring right at her. Fuck. Fuck. Can he tell? What if the suppressants aren’t strong enough?

He plants his hands on his knees and stands up, slowly, before making his way to her. Slowly. And she can’t look away. God, she’s fucked. The man slouches down to prop himself up on crossed arms, and the scent is so much stronger now that it might choke her. Rey braces herself for him to speak, for her knees to buckle and for him to know what she is.

“Can I get one of those?” His voice is deep, but she doesn’t faint or swoon. Her brows furrow in confusion, so he jerks his chin towards the box of bottles in her hands. _Oh_. Moron. Of course he just wanted a drink. She’s the fucking bartender.

“Yeah, of course.” She drops the box and slides one to Klaud first - lord knows he’s been waiting for it - before grabbing one for the stranger. “You got a tab open?” 

“Kylo Ren.” She nods and places the beer by his elbow, but he doesn’t move. He’s still looking at her, too, smiling like something’s funny. Rey crosses her arms and waits. It’s a standoff. He doesn’t take the hint, or maybe doesn’t care.

“If you need anything else, just shout.” She doesn’t have time to sit here and have a staring contest; she has work to do. And lots of it, thanks to him and his friends. Turning away to head towards the other side of the bar, she glances over her shoulder just in time to see him lighting a cigarette as he walks back to his table. “And you can’t fucking smoke in here, asshole.”

She nearly has to yell to be heard above the din. And he does hear her, pointing a finger in the air before veering towards the front door to take it outside. Unfortunately for her, that means Unkar heard it, too. He stands up from where he’s sitting and hustles over to the bar, an ugly scowl on his face as he squeezes between patrons. He’s been drinking, she can tell - but he’s always drinking. She’s never worked at another bar to know whether or not that’s normal, and it’s not like she’s going to drive to the next town over for work. Besides, as long as she stays on his good side, it’s not a problem.

“You must be on something if you think I’m going to let you talk to customers that way.” She’s not on his good side. Some spit flies from his lip as he leans over the bar to rake her over the coals. “Keep it up and you’ll be out of a job.”

“It’s the _law_ , Unkar,” she hisses through grit teeth, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s already turned away to trundle back to the group of men she can only imagines he envies, otherwise she has no idea why he’s letting them stay. As if to prove her point, a glass shatters somewhere in the room, followed by some shoving and shouting. 

Which probably means someone needs another drink.

* * *

The bikers outstay their welcome, at least in her eyes. There’s been two fights, one broken pool stick, and countless beer bottles and cans tossed on the floor like they live in a fucking barn. Rey works ten-hour shifts all the time (comes with the gig), but this is the longest ten hours ever. And she’s never, ever, not even once, been so excited for 2:30 to roll around.

Most of them are already outside, and she hears bikes start to leave the parking lot one by one. A couple of them are still chatting as they shuffle towards the door, but her work here is done. She has the next two days off - by that time, they should be long gone on their way to their next destination, and she won’t have to worry about them ever again. Once she finishes cleaning up the mess they’ve left behind, anyways.

“Rey.” Unkar’s voice calls out to her just after the door swings open and two people walk back in. His tone isn’t stern, and she doesn’t think she’s about to be yelled at - but it’s not particularly nice, either. It never fucking is. She doesn’t stop drying the glass in her hand, just responds with a hmm?

But Kylo Ren is with him. Though she hasn’t turned around to look, his scent, distinct and strong, is back. It’s more noticeable now, too, that there’s just the three of them in the room. She glances quickly at the computer, and sure enough, he’s closed out his tab. So what does he want?

“Is Rose still here? She needs to hear this, too. You two girls are switching shifts for the next couple of nights.”

Her jaw drops, and she sets the glass down - maybe a bit too forcefully - before turning around to face them. Ren’s hands are stuffed in his pockets, and she can feel his gaze burning into her. She does her best to avoid eye contact, instead focusing on her boss. “That’s bullshit. I’ve worked six days in a row. I deserve a day off.” She throws her towel down on the bar for emphasis. “Especially after I busted my ass tonight.”

“You’ll be fine.” Her boss walks up to the bar and leans in to speak to just her, and quietly. “And it’ll be good money. Don’t know what you did, but even with your shitty attitude, he likes you.” Unkar tips his head back towards Kylo, as though it wasn’t clear who she was talking about. “Wants you on the bar while his club’s in town.”

Rey shakes her head, but he pushes off the bar with a pitiless shrug. “Not asking. You don’t want to work, you can find another job.” He walks around the bar and heads down the stairs towards his office, throwing one last wave Kylo’s way before he disappears. “And make sure you get all that shit cleaned up before you go, Rey.”

They’re alone now. She stares, heart hammering as she tries to will Rose to finish her counts downstairs and come up and join her. The internet is filled with information on the effect alphas have on omegas - there have been countless studies about the phenomenon. Enough to make her glad she’s never met one. She’s still not sure whether or not he knows what she is, and it’s not like she can ask. So instead, she just waits.

“Hey, Rey?” Rose’s voice calls from down the stairs, breaking her concentration. “Can you come help me carry these up there?”

It’s the out she needs - she doesn’t hesitate for a split second, turning on her heel and heading down the stairs. “Have a good night, Ren!”

When she follows Rose back up, cases of beer weighing her down, he’s gone.


	2. Did he go and leave you all alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anotha one

She’s sitting in her beat-up lemon of a car in front of Unkar’s, about ready to open the bar when she realizes.

At first, Rey thinks maybe she’s just misplaced them. She roots through her purse again, dragging receipts and old wrappers and packs of gum out onto the seat until the bag is empty. Then she tears apart the glove compartment, the center console, her jacket pockets - hell, she even checks under seats, even though there’s no way that they’d be there.

_Don’t panic, Rey. Don’t panic._ She takes a deep breath and reaches for her phone, tapping in her passcode and immediately calling Rose. It rings so long that she starts to worry her friend might not answer, but she does. And she never thought that someone asking what’s up would bring so much relief. Rose will fix this. She’ll know where it is. She’s not sure how she knows, but she just has a feeling… or maybe wishful thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’d dropped something only for Rose to pick it up and put it behind the bar for safekeeping.

“Hey.” She takes a deep breath, then, when she asks, asks too quickly. “I guess I must’ve dropped my suppressants when we were closing up yesterday, and I was wondering if you found them at some point and if you did where you left them?”

A quick, simple answer is what she’d wanted. An ‘oh, they’re on the shelf by the walk-in’, or ‘oh, I put them by the blenders for you’. Instead, the line is silent for long enough that she thinks maybe one of them dropped connection. “Rose?”

“You can’t go in. Call Unkar and explain what’s up.” Rey’s heart sinks - this can only mean one thing: her suppressants are really, truly missing. Her apartment is too small for them to have been there, or she definitely would’ve seen them while getting ready this morning. “Maybe he can find someone to cover for you.”

“Could _you_ cover for me?” She knows her boss. It’s a long shot that he’ll let her off at all, since she was apparently requested, but he’ll never allow it if she doesn’t have her own replacement. And Rose is the only one that’s ever taken her shift. Kaydel and Hux worked maybe twice a week, tops, and had never covered for anyone since they’d started last fall.

“You know I would if I could, but I’d never get there in time.” Rey frowns, and that’s when she hears a voice - deep, male, familiar - muffled as someone spoke to Rose on the other end of the line. Rose must turn away to answer, because she can’t quite make out what they’re saying. “Since I had the next few days off, Finn and I drove down to the beach. Unkar’s not going to stay closed.”

She’s right. Rey knows she’s right - he’d never delay opening by the five hours it’d take Rose to get to the bar, and that was only if she left right now. And that didn’t sound like an option. 

“But you need to call the pharmacy if you can’t find them.” She can’t be mad. There’s no way Rose could have known that she’d be needed today in case of emergency, and she can hear the concern in her voice. “And call me as soon as you close up for the night so I know you’re alright.”

_Alright_. She knows exactly what - or, more specifically, who - Rose is referring to. She nods, clearing the lump from her throat as she does. “I will. Promise.”

“And if you can’t find anyone to cover you for tomorrow, let me know when you call. We’ll drive back overnight.” Finn makes some sort of whining noise, and Rose leans away from the phone to snap something at him. “I love you, okay? Get off the phone, call Unkar and call your pharmacy. Talk to you soon.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck _fuck fuck_. After another I love you, Rose hangs up, and Rey calls Unkar right away. She knows how this is about to go - but she’d promised she’d call, and who knew? Maybe he’d surprise her.

“What do you want?” His voice is gruff and irritated, and she wonders if she woke up him. Then again, he always sounds irritated. She tugs on the end of her braid nervously as she tries to work up the courage to do it. The longer she waits, the more likely it is that he’ll say no. So she goes for it.

“I’m having a medical emergency, and I was hoping you could find someone to cover my shift for today. I can get Rose to cover for me tomorrow, but she’s out of town. Hux and Kaydel didn’t answer their phones when I called.” It’s a half-truth; she hadn’t bothered calling the other two. It had seemed like a waste of time. He grumbles, but doesn’t say anything, and she holds her breath while she waits for him to answer.

“Will this medical emergency make it so you can’t do your job?” Hope swells in her chest at the question. If he cares enough to ask, maybe he’ll let her off. 

“Yes.” She says it confidently and calmly. Any other day, maybe it wouldn’t have - but with an alpha around, she doesn’t know what will happen. 

“Are you in the hospital?” Oh, no. There’s follow-up questions. Maybe Rey should have expected as much, but it worries her all the same. She has to answer these questions carefully. Whenever Unkar starts interrogating one of his employees like this, there’s always a right answer and a wrong answer to the questions.

“No, but-”

“Can you walk?”

“Yes, it’s not-”

“Can you hear alright? Are your motor skills fine?”

“You’re not-”

“Are you contagious?”

This is going exactly how she’d expected when Rose had told her to call. She quits trying to argue, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, I’m not contagious.”

“Well that’s great, Rey. That guy asked for you, and he and his buddies are bringing a lot of money to the bar. Money I _need_. If your ass isn’t in the bar, all set up by the time we open, I’ll make sure no one in this town will hire your unskilled ass ever again.”

Right. The money. He knows about her condition - it’s something she’d disclosed pretty early on - but he clearly doesn’t care. There’s no worker protection for omegas (or alphas, honestly, but they don’t really need any special accommodations). She’s heard that omegas in bigger cities, when they work at a good company, get heat leave. But she doesn’t live in a big city.

“I understand.” Her voice sounds defeated. She _is_ defeated.

“Good.” He hangs up almost immediately, and Rey chucks her phone into the passenger seat, rests her forehead on the steering wheel and groans.

But maybe they’re in there somewhere. Maybe she had dropped them, but Rose hadn’t found them. She takes a deep breath, grabs her bag and phone, and drags herself from the car to unlock the bar. The first place she looks is behind the bar. While she searches, she calls CVS and waits for the pharmacist.

“Hi.” She’s on her hands and knees behind the bar, looking under the counters. Just in case. All she sees are some old limes, a few hair ties and lots of dirt. When was the last time they cleaned back here? “I need an emergency refill of my suppressants. Rey Niima, born October 8th, 1995.”

They have to put her on hold. She guesses that makes sense. She slips the phone into her back pocket and heads downstairs, partly to look for her meds and partly because she needs to restock a few cases of beer. 

“Miss Niima?” She lugging three cases out of the cooler when the pharmacist comes back, and she gives a hmm? to acknowledge her. “We had to double-check with your insurance. A refill isn’t covered for another three weeks, so it’ll cost $600 for a new pack. Is that alright?”

It’s not. If she had an extra $600 laying around, the brakes on her car wouldn’t still be squealing. She groans and heads up the stairs. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“That’s great. We’ll put in a rush order to get more stock in, and your suppressants should be here in about two days.”

Rey freezes on the stairs, even though her muscles are screaming to hurry up and put the boxes down. “A few days?” Her voice is tight, panicked. She hadn’t expected that. “Is there any way that you could get them sooner?”

“You’re the only customer we have that needs them, and you weren’t supposed to need another refill for another month or so.” So really, all this can be chalked up to bad luck and horrible timing, from the sounds of it. As the pharmacist speaks, there’s the click-clack of her typing on a keyboard in the background. “I apologize if this is any inconvenience. But there’s really no way we could get your medication in any sooner than Monday morning.”

Tears prickle hot in the corners of her eyes. “Thanks for checking. How long until the effects of what I’ve already taken wears off?”

“Well, that depends on the person. But we usually say about 24 to 48 hours.” There’s a long pause, and she swears she hears pity in the pharmacist’s voice. “We’ll send you a text to inform you that your refill is ready for pickup, alright?”

“Thanks.” She reaches the top of the last few steps and pushes through to the bar, setting the cases of beer down before hanging up.

This is bullshit. She doesn’t just _lose_ things. Especially not when they’re this important. They have to be here, somewhere, and she’s going to fucking find them. She has to. Rey puts the beers in the fridge as quickly as she can before pulling the coolers and carts out from the wall to check behind them. She’s busy balancing, trying not to put her knees directly in the gross sludge that’s built up beneath the appliances while using her flashlight to look in the gap between the wall and the backs of the counters. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t hear anyone come in.

“Looking for something?”

The sound of his voice makes her startle, and in her haste to stand up, she bangs her head on the ceiling. She recognizes that voice, even if she’s only heard it a couple of times, and sure enough, there he is. He has his hands planted flat on the bartop like he owns the place. He still has his vest on - all the members of the club have the First Order vests, she’d noticed - but he’s got a different shirt underneath it, and his hair isn’t in a bun. His hair is long. 

“Kylo,” he says after a moment, prompting. “We met last night.”

“I remember.” Her gaze flits to his eyes, which are trained on her. Intense. Dark. “Yeah, I must have lost something of mine last night.” She doesn’t want him to know how worried she is because she doesn’t want him to ask too many questions. Doesn’t want him to find out that she’s missing her suppressants. “Though the place could clearly use a deep clean while I’m already down here.”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t lean in to look like she’d expected him to. He just keeps staring at her. Her heart races; it’s almost been 24 hours since her last pill, and she doesn’t know what he can and can’t smell. Finally, after what feels like ages, he breaks his gaze to lean forward on the bar. “Have you checked where you normally keep your purse?” Now he does lean forward to look, and the first place he looks is exactly where the female bartenders usually keep their bags during their shift. “Maybe it fell.”

“Maybe.” She wants him to leave. He doesn’t even have to leave the bar - she just wants him to leave her alone. “I’ll check.” Like she hasn’t already?

“Good.” Kylo leans back and smiles, and it gives her goosebumps. “Hope you find it. Anyway, the rest of the guys will be here in a few minutes. You might want to get some more Bud Light from downstairs, because they’re pretty thirsty.”

His scent is stronger now than it had been yesterday, or maybe she’s just imagining it. Rey can’t bring herself to answer, so she just nods. 

It’s enough for him, apparently, because he backs away from the bar to head back outside. She can hear more of them in the parking lot, and loud laughter. “And hey,” he says, peering around the open door just before he steps outside. “Have a good shift.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this from my phone again so please lmk if there’s anything funky about the formatting


	3. I got a bad desire

Rey did not have a good shift.

2:30 rolls around as slowly as ever, and that’s really saying something. Usually Saturday nights fly by. Then again, she hasn’t worked a Saturday alone in months, let alone one as busy tonight. She’s swept up broken glass twelve times, she’s sticky from spilled beer and a mishap with the soda gun, and she had to break up a fight (which she’s had to do before; they never scare her, but it’s never fun).

And, on top of it all, she can feel it: where her shoulder meets her neck, just beneath her skin, it’s starting to itch. Mating glands are ugly and embarrassing, and she had been worried this would happen. It’s why she’d worn a long sleeve flannel, even though it gets hot in the bar, and pulled her braid over to one side.

All she wants now is to go home and take a long, hot shower before crawling into bed. She wants to call Rose and ask for her to come home early, not to take her shift but so that she get a ride in a car that will last to a city with a bigger pharmacy.

“We’re closing, guys.” She has to raise her voice to be heard by the last few stragglers in the bar, and a few of them gripe about their yet-to-be-completed round of pool. It takes everything in her not to roll her eyes. These are grown men, but they’re acting like kids who’ve been told it’s time to go to bed. “I know, but I have to lock up. I’ll give you a round on the house tomorrow.”

That seems to do the trick. She follows the last of them to the door, feeling more sheepdog than bartender. Her regulars would never do this shit; they know what time the bar closes. And they _respect_ it. Rey holds the door as the last man ambles through without so much as a thank you and locks it behind him.

_Didn’t have to call the cops to break up any fights. Whole body hurts. I smell like spilled beer._ She doesn’t even have time to put her phone away before Rose texts back: _$$$$$!_

She snorts and tucks the device into her back pocket before turning to assess the damage. It’s not too bad; she’d expected the place to look like a tornado had blown through it, but the night’s patrons had managed not to destroy too much this time around. She cleans up enough to close down in about an hour, counts her tips, and texts Rose to let her know that she did well and she’s headed home.

Rey locks up like she always does. Curses the way temperatures drop at night in the desert like she always does. Wishes she didn’t have to be back here in eleven hours like she always does. Turns to walk towards her car like she always does.

Kylo Ren is leaning against the side of her car smoking a cigarette.

His scent is stronger - spicier, and she can catch it easily from across the parking lot. The realization makes her palms prickle with anxiety, but she lifts her chin and keeps walking towards her car.

“I was wondering how long you were going to take,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world that he was waiting for her. Like he would’ve waited all night, if he had to, and didn’t really mind. “I’ve got something you want.”

His voice sounds deeper, too, or maybe she’s just imagining things (or maybe she needs to hurry up and get the hell away from him before things get out of hand). Rey digs her fingernails into her palms to stay focused and rolls her eyes. He pushes off the car as she comes to stand beside him, and she hadn’t realized just how tall he was when there was the bar between them.

Here, standing right next to her, he looks massive. She just scowls up at him, wrapping her fingers around the handle of the driver’s side door and pressing the unlock button on her key fob before giving it a tug. “I don’t want anything from you except for some personal space, perv.”

He doesn’t even blink as he pushes it shut with one hand, cigarette smoldering between two fingers. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try. “I’ve got a good feeling that’s not true, Rey.” Kylo takes his hand off the door and she tries to open it again; he leans against it to keep it closed as he reaches into his back pocket to grab something that he then holds in front of her face.

It takes her a second to recognize it, frowning as her eyes try to focus, but then she does: her _suppressants_. And, faster than she can reach up to snatch them away, he’s holding them above his head. “Do you live nearby?”

She jumps, but it does her little good. There’s not much else she can try - Rey doesn’t want to get much closer, because from where she stands she can already smell whatever motel shampoo he’s used most recently. Anything closer would be _dangerous_. “I’ll call the cops,” she says finally, her brows furrowed as she stares up at him. “You stole my shit. That’s illegal.”

“Go ahead. Call them.” His answer is less bothered than she’d hoped and expected it to be, and he’s staring right back down at her. “I’m great with cops. We’ll all have to go to the station, I’ll explain that I was only trying to return them to you and there was a big misunderstanding, they’ll take your statement that you can’t back up, and then we’ll all be on our way. You’ll get home around six, I think.” He pauses, straightening up again so that he’s not leaning on the car door and stubbing out his cigarette on the roof. “Or you could just take me to your place, and then I’ll give them back.”

What bothers her most, she thinks, is that he’s right. She can’t prove that he stole them. She’s not recording him right now, and for all anyone else knows, the packet could’ve fallen out of her purse at any time. 

Besides - she still feels in control. Rey’s never gone into heat before, but she imagines that it wouldn’t just hit all at once. Betas get PMS for periods, so surely something as serious as _heat_ would have a bit of build-up and more than a few warning signs. Before suppressants, omegas would have had to get ready for them, wouldn’t they?

“Fine.” He smiles, and she wants to wipe the smug, satisfied look off his face, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods towards his bike. “But we aren’t riding together.”

“You’re the boss.” He winks as he turns away, and it makes her blood boil. She doesn’t feel like the boss, and he damn well knows it. Asshole. But at least she doesn’t have to sit in a car with his cigarette smoke and his alpha scent and his cheap shampoo.

The drive is short. Too short for her to have come up with a convincing reason why he can’t come into the apartment. If he’s going this far, he won’t care if it’s messy (which it is); she can’t say it’s being fumigated because he’d be able to smell it if that were true. There’s nothing else, short of maybe a holy ghost tent revival, that she can think of that would really be enough to deter him.

And there’s not enough traffic at four in the morning for her to accidentally lose him, either. Not that she can. She needs her fucking pills back.

Really, she just needs to get this the fuck over with. She can hear the growl of his bike cut off as she stomps up the stairs to her floor of the duplex, and she knows he won’t be far behind. Rey daydreams, just briefly, about locking him out and telling him to go fuck himself.

Instead, she’s holding the door open for him to step inside and trying her best not to look at the smug smile on his face.

“This is a nice place,” he says slowly, carefully. She snorts and rolls her eyes, closing the door behind him and walking into the kitchen to make some food like she always does before bed. She doesn’t want him here - she’s not going to fuck up her whole routine to accommodate Kylo. Especially not when she has another long-ass shift tomorrow thanks to him. “No, really. It’s not the biggest, and it’s certainly not the cleanest -”

“-I wasn’t expecting _guests_ ,” she snaps as she pops two slices of bread into the toaster -

“- But it’s cozy,” he finishes, seemingly not put off in the least by her interruption. 

His approval stirs something in her chest, but she pushes it down, down, down until it’s buried. He’s an asshole, and after tomorrow she’ll never have to see him again. And then he’ll be nothing but a bad dream. “Whatever,” she huffs, screwing the lid off her jar of peanut butter. “You got what you wanted, so if you’re done being nosy you can just leave the suppressants on the side table on your way out.”

She doesn’t expect him to leave without getting some word in edgewise - it’s not the alpha way, from what she’s heard. But it would have been nice. 

What she doesn’t expect is how close he is when he answers. “I think I want to wait.” She can feel his breath on her ear, and the low tone of his voice makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. When she takes a deep breath, as her lungs expand, she can feel her shoulder blades just barely graze his chest.

“For what?” Rey hates the way her voice comes out - a whisper she could choke on. But it’s hard for her to focus on anything with him invading her personal space like this; she holds the jar in her hands with a white-knuckled grip. If she doesn’t focus, she might collapse into a puddle right then and there, just melt right into the floor. And if she doesn’t focus enough, she’ll keep holding her breath… how long has she been holding her breath?

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes it worse. Anticipation is not, she thinks, her friend, and at least if he was speaking she’d have something else to think about besides the way being pressed up against him makes her feel like every inch of her skin is buzzing.

“To see what happens,” he says finally, his head dipping low enough that as he speaks his lips brush against the hair on the crown of her head. 

That’s when she feels it for the very first time: _alpha_. She doesn’t say it out loud (thankfully it would seem she still has some small shred of self control), but a small whine slips out before she can stop herself. He has the nerve to laugh at her, and that’s enough to bring her back from whatever bizarre fucking omega space she’s been floating in.

He plants his hands on the counter, one on either side of her body, and that threatens to send her back up into her head, but she slams the peanut butter down onto the counter and balls her hands into fists, fingernails biting into palms to give her something solid to focus on besides the way he smells.

Which makes him laugh at her. Again. Rey seethes, but can’t bring herself to snap at him. She’s not sure what she’ll say if she opens her mouth.

“You know,” he says, still nosing into her hair as he takes enough steps forward to wedge her between the edge of the counter and his hips. She can feel his dick, half-hard, even through the layers of both of their clothing. “I could bend you over right here if I wanted to. And you’d like it.”

Rey’s mouth goes dry, and she clenches her fists so tightly to stay grounded that her knuckles pop. She isn’t sure if he’s saying it as a threat, but there’s a part of her - a very small part, one that she’s trying her damndest to ignore - that thinks he’s right. That wants him to do just that, right now on her kitchen counter. A part of her that can forget about what an asshole he is because he’s strong and tall and knows what he wants and -

“I’ll give your pills back at the end of your shift tomorrow night.” She isn’t sure how long it’s been silent, but his voice startles her. He steps away and she lets loose a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I promise,” he says when she turns to look at him.

She scowls, but fine. It’s only been a day and a few hours since her last pill, and the doctor said she’d be fine for up to 48 hours. And she feels fine now, when he keeps his distance. 

He doesn’t say goodbye when he leaves, and he slams the door behind him. Maybe on purpose, maybe not. She stands, leaning against the cabinets behind her, and listens as his motorcycle revs up and then gets quieter, quieter, quieter as he disappears down the road and gets further away from her.

The distance is what she needed. Rey’s trembling breathlessness is replaced with something else, hotter and fiercer, and she stalks across her small apartment to lock the door behind him, even though she doesn’t really expect he’ll come back. _He better fucking not,_ she thinks. He’s a piece of shit, and a _thief_. Tomorrow when she opens up the bar, she’ll confront him early, and if he doesn’t give her suppressants back right then and there, she decides, she’s going to call the cops.

Kylo Ren can try to scare her all he wants with what might happen. He’s a stranger around here, and she’s got friends at the station. Poe would believe her. He’d want to protect her if he knew.

She turns and heads back into the kitchen, dropping her now-cold toast onto a paper plate and slapping some messy globs of peanut butter on each. Only ten hours until she opens the bar, confronts this piece of shit, and gets her pills back. Ten hours until she can tell Kylo Ren to choke on that massive ego of his. 

The ten hours will go by a lot faster if she can calm down long enough to get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now we're in the final countdown


	4. Oh, I'm on fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally..... the fucking

When she wakes up, she thinks she might be dying.

Usually, it’s the sound of her alarm that drags her out of a post-closing-shift sleep, but this time it’s a sharp pain in her lower abdomen - a sharp, squeezing pain, like her insides are a boa constrictor coiling around some unknown prey. Sweat beads on her upper lip, but that might just be because of how tightly she’s wrapped the comforter around herself at some point in the night.

_Shit_. This isn’t what she thought it would be like. If anything, she feels the way she did when she got the flu as a child: weak, tired, hot and cold at the same time.

Maybe she does have the flu. Maybe that means she won’t have to go to work today. She pokes her head out from the blanket cocoon to squint at the clock - not long until she has to be at the bar, if she does have to go in - before ducking back down and blindly groping for the phone on her nightstand.

Unkar picks up on the second ring.

“I have the flu.” She does sound pathetic; maybe that will work in her favor. Rey pulls the blankets back up over her head and curls up on her side, squeezing her eyes shut.

“The fuck do you mean? It’s not flu season.” His irritation is palpable, and she knows why. When she’d tried to call out yesterday, he’d made it very clear that he didn’t want to miss out on the money that the motorcycle club would bring. “You throwing up? Or… anything else?”

She does her best not to sigh, instead opening her eyes just enough to roll them. “No.”

“Coughing? Sneezing? Got that mucus-y shit going on?”

“No.” Of course if she’s not literally disgusting he wouldn’t buy it. She’s not the sort to lie (even to her scumbag boss), but a big part of her wishes she had. “But I’ve got cold sweats and I’m sure I look like shit.”

He grunts on the other end of the line, and she waits, fingers crossed, as he mutters to himself and thinks things through. She doesn’t need a lot from him - and she never calls out. Well, except for yesterday. But the difference between her voice yesterday and her voice today…

“Do your best to not look like shit for a couple of hours, get in there and open up. Then you can go. I’ll be there around three.” She’d sigh with relief if she wanted to go in at all. Sure, Kylo Ren has her suppressants, but at this point she’d rather eat the cash she’ll have to fork out for a new pack than see him. Especially like this, if this is what she thinks it is. Unkar doesn’t wait long for a response before his eye roll is practically audible. “You’re welcome.”

The line goes dead, and she tries to decide if this job is worth putting her safety on the line. But she’s still in her right mind… none of the extreme stuff she remembers from her sex ed class has started yet. No wailing or thinking about pups or ripping open every soft thing in the apartment to make a nest, or whatever.

And maybe it’s stupid, but tips at this job are a lot better than they were at Denny’s. 

So she drags herself out of bed, pulls on a clean pair of jeans and a sweatshirt she hopes is thick enough to dampen the scent of her pheromones, and forces herself out the door.

Rey makes it to the bar - barely - and breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that there are no other cars in the parking lot. She’s not sure what she’d expected; he wouldn’t have been able to get in yet, because even if she were there, they don’t officially open for another thirty minutes or so. But a part of her had expected him to be _waiting_. And maybe for good reason, too, because the second she unlocks the front door and steps inside, the remnants of his scent from the night before hits her. Full force.

No one else’s scent is left, not that a beta would do much for her anyway. Just his. Even though she knows that it has to be mostly faded by now, it’s all she can smell. The tension of a cramp is starting to build as something inside of her constricts, but she has too much to do before Unkar gets here.

She tries to make quick work of it. She’s not sure how much time she has left before the cramps get too strong to ignore, and she needs to bring up enough beers for the evening from the walk-in downstairs. Throwing her purse down behind the bar, she grips the handrail so tightly that her knuckles turn white as she descends slowly, one foot in front of the other. The pressure in her lower abdomen is worse now, and doubling over is tempting, but she forces herself to focus.

Just a few more steps now.

After what seems like ages, she steps off the staircase and onto the basement floor like she’s done hundreds of times before. She’s operating on muscle memory as she crosses the small room to throw open the cooler. But this time things are different:

The blast of air that hits her is usually a fucking arctic blast, causing her skin to prickle up with goosebumps. She usually hisses at the sudden discomfort. Today, though, she doesn’t get goosebumps. The typically too-cool air is a relief. As the heavy door swings shut behind her, she presses the backs of her fingers to her cheeks, and she doesn’t feel like she’s burning up… but as she turns her head to look for the right box of beers, she realizes that the baby hairs that have fallen out of her braid are now stuck to her neck with sweat.

And it feels nice in the walk-in, she thinks as she sinks to her knees to move one case of beers off the top of the one she needs. It wouldn’t hurt to stay for an extra minute. Cool off before heading back upstairs. 

Rey presses her forehead against the cardboard box of lemons and closes her eyes. 

The door to the cooler flies open with a _bang_ , and she nearly jumps out of her skin, looking up to see a very familiar and very unwelcome silhouette staring down at her. 

“I thought I told you to open the bar up, you useless piece of shit.” Unkar. She shakes her head and covers her face with her hands, trying to shrink back further into the walk-in as he raves and sputters about what a lazy bitch she is. “You just been sitting in here for two hours? Can’t handle the one fucking thing I ask you to do?” 

But he doesn’t understand. He never will. Tears prickle in the corners of her eyes, frustrated as she tries and fails to think of a way to explain herself. This is it: she dragged herself to work because he told her to, and he’s going to fire her, anyway. 

“Get off the floor,” he spits, his tone still sharp as ever. But even if she wanted to, she’s not sure she can. Not without help, anyway, and Unkar has never been the sort to lend a hand unless he absolutely needed to. He waits a minute before huffing. “I’ve about had it-“

He’s cut off with a yelp before he can finish his sentence. Rey spreads her fingers and catches a glimpse of him pinned up against the wall as the cooler door swings shut. 

And though she doesn’t see him - she sees a hand, but she couldn’t possibly recognize that from their brief interactions over the past few days - she does catch his scent. Even if she didn’t have it memorized by now, her body knows an alpha when presented with one: a whimper slips from her lips as her cunt clenches desperately, as though it’s just now become aware of how fucking _empty_ she is.

The next time the door swings open, there he is. 

She watches as he tilts his head and smiles before kneeling down in front of her. When he’s this close, Rey swears that he can hear the sound of her heart hammering in her chest; he moves slowly when he reaches out to swipe the tears from her cheek with his thumb.

“Poor thing.” He brings that same thumb to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. She feels her lower lip tremble. “It your first time?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nods. No sense in lying about it.

His dark eyes flicker back and forth between hers, and she feels like she’s under a microscope. He sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. You know what you need, don’t you?”

Her brows furrow as he crawls forward, somehow still intimidatingly large despite the fact that he’s dropped to both knees. “Get away from me,” she says, her voice hoarse and uncertain. Because she does know what she needs… but he’s the one that did this to her in the first place. She’ll ignore the ache between her legs for as long as she has to. He doesn’t _deserve_ it. Suddenly feeling a bit stronger, she plants her hands on the cool metal floor of the walk in and pushes herself backwards, further away from him.

And now he’s the one that’s frowning. She kicks, but that doesn’t prevent him from wrapping his fingers around her ankle and yanking, undeterred by her scream as he moves to hover over her.

Not that anyone would be able to hear her from all the way down here anyway, she thinks.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. When she doesn’t, he reaches up and splays one large hand across her jaw, fingers and thumb pressing into the soft flesh of her cheeks until she winces. “I said shut up. Let me help you.”

Rey swears that his voice is different the second time he says it. Lower, somehow. Commanding. Must be the power she’s always heard about. The impact that Alphas can have.

Much as she hates it, her heart rate slows and her mouth snaps shut. Kylo’s chest rumbles with approval from deep within. That alone is enough to make some small voice in her, entirely unfamiliar, preen itself on the achievement. Her brows furrow as she tries to convince herself that his validation isn’t important, but that small voice pushes back: _it is, it is, it is._

The second he releases his grip on her jaw, she wants to jerk away. He pauses, hand still raised, as though he’s read her mind - but something stops her. 

After another moment, he traces his fingertips along the line of her cheekbone, down her jaw, down the hollow of her throat. It feels wrong. Too gentle. Intimate. She swallows hard, feeling her throat press up against his touch, and he smiles down at her before he brushes the hairs that have fallen loose from her braid away from her shoulder. And though she doesn’t realize what he’s done at first, it becomes obvious once his thumb presses against her swollen mating gland:

She’s exposed.

Her whimpers are shushed immediately, leaving her to watch with wide eyes as he ducks his head down to suck. Rey braces herself for the bite, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, she feels something trickling from between her thighs. Slick. It has to be. Her body tenses, but that only seems to push more of it out. The stupid rumbling in his chest keeps her from panicking the way she ought to be, putting out each fire as soon as it starts.

He releases her gland with a wet pop, leaning back so that he’s sitting on his heels between her knees. “This is going to help,” he says after a moment of staring down at her. “Just try to relax.”

The words do nothing for her as he hoists her legs up onto either one of his shoulders. She balls her fingers into fists as his fingers work through the fly of her jeans and hook into the waistband, pulling her pants and underwear together down her thighs. 

Just far enough to get to what he wants. Rey stiffens as cold air washes over burning-hot skin and tries to jerk away, but one of his arms wrapped around her knees holds her in place. “Goddamn,” he breathes. From anyone else, in any other situation, she’d be flattered. Take the way he tips his head back with his eyes closed, just inhaling the scent of her, as a compliment. 

“You smell way better than a beta bitch. You know that?” The words remind her that she’s not anywhere else with anyone else. She’s here with the man that fucking did this to her. So she just bristles. He looks down at her and raises his eyebrows like he’s waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, but when he doesn’t get any, he shrugs. 

He doesn’t care, she tells herself. He says he’s doing this to help, but it’s really about him.

Selfish bastard.

“Ever been with an Alpha, Rey?” She swallows thickly at the question and refuses to look at him as he shifts around. A second later, she hears the clink of his loose belt buckle and grimaces. “What, feeling shy? ‘Salright. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

His fingers brush against her slick outer folds. The simple act feels electric, sending lightning straight to her core, and Rey gasps, her back arching. Kylo _laughs_ , but the part of her that silently calls him a bastard feels slow. Weighed down, like it’s stuck in petroleum jelly. Drowned by something else, that small voice that’s now chanting _Alpha. Alpha. Alpha._ like a manifestation mantra.

Something blunt and hot and hard bumps against her entrance. Her eyes widen, but she forces herself to keep staring at the ceiling, even as the fat head of his cock presses into her cunt.

This is wrong. She doesn’t want this. But the little voice disagrees, and the little voice wins; she lets out a stuttered moan as he parts her walls inch by inch.

He laughs again. “That’s a good girl.” His voice is encouraging as he slides in deeper, and she balls her fists so tightly that she feels her nails tearing into the flesh of her palms in an attempt to keep a grip on reality. The reality is, though, that this should hurt. He’s fucking _big_. 

But the slick is making her disgustingly wet, and her pussy takes every inch of him greedily. She whines as his hips press against the backs of her thighs, his belt buckle biting into her hip. Kylo’s groan is heavy as he carefully presses forward, bending her legs back to plant his hands on either side of her head.

“Look at me.” She swallows and turns her head to the side, fighting off the small voice when it warns not to make him angry. Rey hears him sigh, practically feels the tension in his muscles as he shifts his weight to one side so that he has a free hand with which to grab her chin. “I said look at me.” He pauses, a dangerous glint in his eyes that makes the small voice gloat: _I told you!_ “I want to see your face when I fuck you.”

The small voice wrestles for control again, and this time it wins. She nods.

He releases her chin and waits to see if she’ll turn her head away again. Waits to see if she’ll listen before he starts to fuck her. Slow at first, opening her up to him more and more with each lazy thrust. A fucking she can try to ignore if she grits her teeth and focuses on shutting that small voice up.

But then he smiles and shakes his head. “God _damn_ , Rey.” He shifts his weight to one side again, this time using his free hand to grip the side of her thigh. 

And then he fucks her in a way that’s impossible to ignore. She grits her teeth so hard she thinks that they might crack, but that doesn’t stop a strangled cry from wrestling its way up from her chest as he fucks her down into the floor of the cooler, bottoming out with each thrust. The sound seems to encourage him; he smirks and picks up the pace.

There is no shutting this out. The walk-in is filled with the sound of him taking her: his grunts, her hitching breaths, the jingle of his belt, the sound of his hips slapping against her damp thighs. She tries to close her eyes and he growls a warning.

There’s too much happening to fight the small voice off now. Tension is winding in her stomach, tighter and tighter with each passing second; she groans as her shoulder blades press together beneath her.

“Come.” The sudden command startles her. She wants to shake her head, but can’t. Settles for letting her lower lip tremble, instead. “It’s what’s gonna make you feel better. Promise. Get you feeling more like yourself again. Isn’t that what you want?”

It is. _Want to make him happy,_ the voice encourages. Rey chokes on a cry. He hears it, rolls his eyes, and lets go of her leg to reach between the two of them, thumb brushing between her thighs and until he finds just the right spot.

And just like that, it’s over. She wails, covering her face with her hands until he swats them away; her toes curl as pleasure crests and crashes, stronger than anything she's ever felt before. When she opens her eyes again, her legs are shaking beneath his chest, and he’s staring down at her with such intensity that it’s almost frightening. “Good,” he grunts before lowering himself even further down. Her legs are sandwiched between each of their chests, and she can feel his hot breath panting against her ear as he slows to a deep, steady rocking motion.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “ _Fuck_.”

Rey frowns, her mind starting to clear, the small voice sated enough to leave her alone. She reaches up to press against his shoulders with a shake of her head. “Please don’t come in-”

He claps a hand over her mouth as he ruts into her, grunting in her ear. Her eyes widen as she feels his cock throb against her walls and start to swell.

Her first knot.

Her eyes water as he’s locked inside of her. Not because it hurts - it’s uncomfortable, but not painful until she tries for the first and only time to jerk away - but because reality is starting to settle back in now that the small voice is gone. She slaps both hands against his chest, hearing her own heart thunder as blood rushes in her ears.

Kylo is unbothered. He kisses her neck once he’s emptied inside of her, purring to calm her down. It’s not fair, she thinks. Not fair for him to have this much power over her. Not when she never asked for any of this. Not fair that he knows exactly what to do when she feels like she knows nothing.

“It’s alright,” he mumbles against her throat. “I’ll stick around til the end of your cycle. Make sure your boss is... understanding. Keep some guys at the bar to make sure he doesn't try to fuck with you again.”

With the way he says it, gentle, tender, even, she realizes: he thinks he’s doing her a kindness by staying.

He _cares_. Which means he’ll be difficult, if not impossible, to get rid of.

“I’ll look after you, Rey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel kinda rusty when it comes to writing smut but we did it y'all
> 
> i will not be continuing this. this is the End end. thank u for reading!!


End file.
